I just had a really good conversation with a friend of mine who is relatively adept maintaining unbiased opinions about where I am and what's happening in my life. I realized that having open communication with everyone in your life is essential for maintaining sanity.
When I left his company and went back out into the world I quickly incorporated it into every avenue of my life.
I established a relationship with a personal banker at my bank and I asked for help. I've always been terrible with the concept of banks and numbers printed out in list format. He worked with me on how to manage my finances better, something I realized I wanted more then to have fees dismissed. I wanted to figure out how to not get into the situations I've been getting into financially.
Then I spoke with a few people who have been pending on my list of frustrations and worries. We talked candidly and worked things out.
A new friend of mine told me that he found it fascinating how I throw myself into challenges, always pushing for improvement; self or otherwise. And that's honestly how I want to live my life. I've found that finding the solution to problems isn't the goal but the strength and knowledge gained in finding the solution is. Dancing around issues causes the crazy to happen internally. I absolutely love talking bluntly and to the point. When interactions are transparent I feel calmer inside.
This morning I awoke to a mind of unrest. I felt weighed down by the troubles in my life to such a degree, that I wanted to hide in my bed for long enough of a time that the things might disappear. I've learned that ignoring problems only makes them compound until you're basically, please excuse the language, fucked.
I'm a strong person. I know this. I've worked hard to be this way.
Tuesday, March 16, 2010
Friday, March 12, 2010
The Decline
I see and interact with death every day. I see the slow decline of health and I watch the strong become non responsive and weak.
He's the strongest most stubborn person I've ever known, and now I'm forced to watch as he wastes away. I feel like I'm not saying anything new. That I'm not the only one to have ever gone through something like this. It's so present in my life right now though.
His skin looks translucent. His white hair is a brilliant shade of wall primer. I can't look away from the slight shaking of his hands. His sentences trail off and his points are never fully made. All I can do is absorb everything. I'm unable to make judgments. I feel numb, still and sad as my wide eyes take it all in as if in a perpetual state of shock.
His shoulders are hunched. He’s softened around the edges and he moves so incredibly slowly. This was the man who used to lift couches with ease and was the only one who managed to pull my drug induced enraged and violent older brother off my mother years ago.
As I sit here and type this he calmly lays on the couch making a strange wheezing/moaning sound I'm not sure he realizes he's making. I know he's in pain. But he refuses to admit it or tell anyone. He reminds me of a stoic golden retriever still trying to wag its tail as it painfully limps up the stairs.
He's the strongest most stubborn person I've ever known, and now I'm forced to watch as he wastes away. I feel like I'm not saying anything new. That I'm not the only one to have ever gone through something like this. It's so present in my life right now though.
His skin looks translucent. His white hair is a brilliant shade of wall primer. I can't look away from the slight shaking of his hands. His sentences trail off and his points are never fully made. All I can do is absorb everything. I'm unable to make judgments. I feel numb, still and sad as my wide eyes take it all in as if in a perpetual state of shock.
His shoulders are hunched. He’s softened around the edges and he moves so incredibly slowly. This was the man who used to lift couches with ease and was the only one who managed to pull my drug induced enraged and violent older brother off my mother years ago.
As I sit here and type this he calmly lays on the couch making a strange wheezing/moaning sound I'm not sure he realizes he's making. I know he's in pain. But he refuses to admit it or tell anyone. He reminds me of a stoic golden retriever still trying to wag its tail as it painfully limps up the stairs.
Monday, March 1, 2010
Escape
Leaving work early with the kindness of my co-workers; I drove, distraught, to the Emergency room. My father had been coughing up blood for several weeks. He hadn't mentioned it until the volume was significant. The oncologist insisted that he go.
When I arrived, I sat with my parents and struggled maintaining my strength. I quietly listened as the conversation stayed light and I watched as the fear shimmered like disturbed puddles of water over my fathers face. When my mother thought no one was looking I saw the depths of sadness fighting to break free flash in her eyes. She told me that she doesn't cry for fear of the damn breaking.
Five hours later I was exhasted. We had no answers but they released him, only to return for chemo the following day. As I was driving to my friends' house for a drink, I had a lit cigarette between my fingers. I'd only taken one drag when the sobbing started. My heart. It felt like it was going to burst. I couldn't stop the hurting and the weird animal sounds escaping my contorted mouth only made it more severe. The cigarette burned to the filter without another drag.
I was quiet when I arrived at the house. Then we decided to go work out.
When I arrived at the foreign gym I was drawn to the elliptical like it was a life line. I dropped my jacket on the floor and clamored on. The awkwardness of my feet slipping, my hands searching for a comfortable place and the sporadic beating of my heart is always frustrating. My mind was a swirling vortex like the tornado in the Wizard of Oz.
Slowly I fell into a rhythm . I felt my body come alive. The back of my mind observed each muscle group sliding and straining. The rest of my mind was still. I felt the beads of sweat tickle as they glided down my skin. I felt my lungs burn in that pleasant way. The half hour passed so quickly I went for more. An hour later my legs felt like jello. I thought I felt the floor shifting beneath my feet.
I felt better.
When I arrived, I sat with my parents and struggled maintaining my strength. I quietly listened as the conversation stayed light and I watched as the fear shimmered like disturbed puddles of water over my fathers face. When my mother thought no one was looking I saw the depths of sadness fighting to break free flash in her eyes. She told me that she doesn't cry for fear of the damn breaking.
Five hours later I was exhasted. We had no answers but they released him, only to return for chemo the following day. As I was driving to my friends' house for a drink, I had a lit cigarette between my fingers. I'd only taken one drag when the sobbing started. My heart. It felt like it was going to burst. I couldn't stop the hurting and the weird animal sounds escaping my contorted mouth only made it more severe. The cigarette burned to the filter without another drag.
I was quiet when I arrived at the house. Then we decided to go work out.
When I arrived at the foreign gym I was drawn to the elliptical like it was a life line. I dropped my jacket on the floor and clamored on. The awkwardness of my feet slipping, my hands searching for a comfortable place and the sporadic beating of my heart is always frustrating. My mind was a swirling vortex like the tornado in the Wizard of Oz.
Slowly I fell into a rhythm . I felt my body come alive. The back of my mind observed each muscle group sliding and straining. The rest of my mind was still. I felt the beads of sweat tickle as they glided down my skin. I felt my lungs burn in that pleasant way. The half hour passed so quickly I went for more. An hour later my legs felt like jello. I thought I felt the floor shifting beneath my feet.
I felt better.
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